Day Two
After a surprisingly deep sleep, Hermione woke up half-convinced the previous day was all a dream. A delightful and surprising dream, but a dream nonetheless. Was she really married? And more than that, was she really Mrs. Lestrange? What would her younger self think if she knew?
The flat was quiet. It usually was. She wasn't sure why she expected any differently. As she stepped outside her bedroom she saw the door to the spare bedroom was wide open. Curious, even though she knew she would be better off staying away, she cautiously approached the doorway.
Her new husband slept curled on his side with his back to the door. There was a contentment to him that she was pleased to see. Was he already savoring all of his available moments outside the stone cells of Azkaban? She hoped he could find peace. Though she knew his past crimes were serious, she believed it was possible for some criminals to truly change and become better people. It seemed wrong to just lock them all up out of sight and hope to forget them.
Rabastan stirred long enough to pull the blanket tighter around his chin. Worried he would know she was staring, Hermione went straight into the bathroom next door. It would take some getting used to having another person living in her small flat. She smiled when she saw his toothbrush sitting in a cup on a shelf next to hers. It was further confirmation that it really wasn't all just a dream.
All through her shower she thought about how the day would progress. It always took time to create new habits and routines. What would Rabastan do all day while she was downstairs in the shop? Would he try to get some sort of job? Clearly he didn't need money if he still had access to the large vault his family owned. Idleness often led to problems though. Was it selfish of her to hope he might want to hope her in the shop? She was drowning alone. But what if her staff members didn't like the thought of an old Death Eater working alongside them? She hoped they wouldn't make him feel uncomfortable.
Used to just wrapping up in a towel and walking across her flat back to her bedroom after bathing, Hermione realized too late that she didn't bring any clean clothes with her. She could've cursed herself for her carelessness. It was hardly appropriate to wander around naked, especially after they made the agreement to wait to get to know each other first. She would have to be more careful from now on. Poking her head out of the door, she listened for any sounds of movement. Only when she was convinced she heard nothing did she make a run for it.
Inside the safety of her bedroom she listened again for any sounds of movement. She hoped he slept well. It was already strange to sleep in a new bed for the first time. What was his bed like in Azkaban? Likely it was horrible. Her spare mattress wasn't the best, but she thought it much better than what he was used to.
It was going to be another busy day in the shop. She could already tell. While that should have made her happy as the proprietor, it also filled her with some dread too. When she bought the shop she naively thought that meant she would finally have more time to read, that life would be a little bit slower. That had yet to happen. Saturdays were usually their busiest day. She hoped she would be able to make it through without any major incidents.
Dressed and ready, Hermione stepped out of her bedroom. The flat was still quiet. Maybe Rabastan decided to have a lie-in that morning. She wouldn't blame him. Was he warm enough? It was the beginning of April and the nights could still be quite cool. Did he have enough blankets?
She decided to brew some tea before she worried herself enough to burst in on him to check that he was all right. He might misunderstand why she was in there and she really didn't want to wake him up. The kettle was half-filled with water from the tap when she heard him step on the creaky board just outside his room. Knowing that he was awake made her nervous. Definitely not scared though. Her heart started racing. Would she always feel like that around him?
Expecting him to come straight to her to kiss her good morning, she couldn't deny she was a little disappointed to hear the bathroom door shut. As the seconds ticked by that he was in there, she found herself anxiously awaiting him coming out. Why? It was a little pathetic. Was she really that eager for the kiss he promised? Her cheeks burned when she thought about their kiss in the kitchen. It was perfect. Would they all be perfect?
Loud knocking on her flat's exterior door tore her out of her thoughts about Rabastan's lips. Sometimes she was able to forget there even was a door that led to a rickety staircase behind the shop. It almost never got used. When she had guests, a sadly infrequent occurrence, they usually came through the shop on the ground floor during regular business hours. What could be so urgent that her private entrance was necessary? Nervous, Hermione unlocked and opened the door.
"Is this true?"
Harry stood just outside holding up a copy of that morning's Daily Prophet. Splashed across the front page was a picture of Rabastan helping Hermione out of the small boat onto shore. A scandalous headline announcing their marriage was impossible to miss. Based on the haphazard way Harry had his robes buttoned, he likely ran out of his house half-dressed to confront her. Hermione wasn't in the mood. There was a reason she didn't tell him. It was none of his business and she knew he wouldn't understand.
"Good morning, Harry. You're right. It has been awhile since you dropped in for a chinwag. Would you like some tea?"
Sarcasm dripped freely off her tongue. She stepped back to allow him to enter the flat. Experience taught her their discussion wouldn't be over quickly. There were neighbors who could overhear if he remained on the doorstep.
"This can't be true. When Ginny showed this to me this morning, I thought she was playing a prank on me. Maybe George gave her a fake newspaper because there was no possible way my best friend Hermione Granger would marry a Death Eater without telling me."
Hermione sighed. Everyone was guilty of denial from time to time. Harry made it an act form. If there was someone who could choose to ignore all of the signs that were right there, it would be her old friend.
"Did I get married yesterday? Yes, I did."
"To Rabastan Lestrange? Are you mad?"
"It's not really any of your concern who I choose to marry, Harry. I didn't offer you my opinion that you were too young and too quick to marry Ginny just because you were so desperate to be a part of her family, did I?"
His emerald green eyes narrowed at the implication that his marriage had been a rash decision. Though it was something she'd never personally brought up before, she knew it was a sore spot for him, something that he probably worried a great deal about. Harry scoffed.
"I suppose I can't deny what I see with my own eyes. Have you no shame, Lestrange?"
Before Hermione could utter any sort of response, she felt two hands rest on her shoulders. Her new husband wasn't going to let her face her first uncomfortable confrontation alone. It meant everything to her to be so supported. She only hoped it wouldn't be necessary to keep doing it over and over. Sadly, she suspected Harry would only be at the front of a long queue of disapprovers.
"There's a lot about my life that I am ashamed of, Mr. Potter. Meeting Hermione and marrying her isn't one of them."
The same fluttering that had plagued her since she saw Rabastan's first smile in the warden's office returned at full force. Hearing him speak about her with such conviction warmed her heart. She did not doubt his sincerity. Harry, however, didn't seem to appreciate the sentiment nor entirely believe it. Perhaps if the situation were reversed and she discovered he married Alecto Carrow in secret, she would likely feel the same.
"I will be keeping a very close eye on you, Lestrange. If I even think you are doing something to hurt her, you'll wish you were back in Azkaban."
In a dramatic flurry of his wrinkled robes that even Professor Snape would've been proud of, Harry practically flew out of the flat. He slammed the door shut in a final expression of his displeasure. Rabastan squeezed her shoulders. Without considering whether or not is was appropriate, she found herself leaning her back against his chest as she sighed again. Feeling him at her back reminded her she wasn't alone.
"Are you all right?"
If she was honest, she was humiliated and wanted to cry. Would he think less of her if he knew that?
"I'm sorry about Harry. That was just embarrassing."
"He cares about you. That's not a bad thing. Potter is still your best friend?"
Another heavy sigh exploded out of her.
"No, but don't tell him that. He'll deny it. I'm his friend when it's convenient for him and he has need of me. Some things never change."
She was a little bitter about how her friendships changed over time. Harry and Ron were closer than ever. They often seemed to forget she existed. Sure, sometimes she received invitations to parties and dinners they hosted, but she knew that was only due to the thoughtfulness of their wives, not them.
"Well, there's no question about who is my best friend."
Rabastan gently turned her around to face him. She couldn't help but be charmed.
"Good morning."
"Good morning."
His lips were still smiling when he pressed them against hers. A little less hesitant than the night before, he didn't settle for just a peck. When he put his mind to something, he was going to do it properly. Not once did their teeth click against each other or either of them produce an excess of saliva. Two kisses in a row were perfect. Was it too much to hope a third would be as well? She was half-tempted to kiss him again to find out. They only agreed not to go to bed together for thirty days. There was a lot that could be done without a bed.
The shop bell signaled the beginning of another day. She needed to be downstairs. Only when she pulled back from her husband did she realize he was wearing only a towel tied around his waist. Suddenly their kiss didn't feel the least bit innocent. Rabastan smirked when he caught her staring at the towel.
"Sorry. There wasn't time to get dressed. When I heard Potter's voice, I came running. I might still have shampoo in my hair."
"Oh, well, then you should probably go rinse that out. I'm needed downstairs."
If she heard chuckling as she rushed down the stairs to the shop, she chose to ignore it. There very likely would come a day when seeing her husband half-naked would be no big deal and something she was used to, but it wasn't that day. No, seeing him had been unexpected. The more she dwelled on it as the day went on, the more she wished the month would hurry up. There hadn't been a man in her bed for a very, very long time.
To her relief it was easy to keep herself mostly distracted with work. There was a steady stream of customers all day and even without them, there was a never-ending list of tasks to complete. Rabastan came downstairs at one point during the day, mercifully fully-clothed, to look around the shop. She kept feeling his eyes on her. It made her nervous in a manner she wanted to feel again and again.
"You can go on home, Nicholas. I'll add up the sales receipts in the morning."
All day long she looked forward to the moment the wizard left. Usually she found him frustrating when he questioned all the decisions she made about the shop or annoyed when he offered suggestions that she didn't ask for. She found his silence to be disconcerting, unnerving.
"You should have told those of us who worked here that you were moving a dangerous Death Eater into the upstairs flat."
Hermione didn't have the energy to deal with his petulant mood. Already pain settled behind her eyes.
"First of all, who lives in my flat is no one's business but mine. And secondly, he is on parole. He isn't dangerous or a threat to anyone."
Clearly not convinced, Nicholas left without saying another word. She was glad when he was gone. There had been no reason for her not to like the man ever since she took over the shop, but as time went on, she cared for him less and less. If he decided that he would no longer be able to work in her shop because of Rabastan, it would be unfair to her husband and yet, she wouldn't be too upset about it.
There were more delicious smells of dinner cooking when she climbed up the stairs to the flat. Rabastan had a number of surprises she was glad to learn about. When she entered their living quarters, he turned away to greet her with a bright smile. Some of the worry Hermione carried upstairs with her from her interaction with Nicholas floated away. Whatever life had to offer her, she felt sure that she would be able to handle it. Her manager was not important in the grand scheme. She headed straight for the kitchen to see what was being prepared.
"I could get used to this, you know. You have to be careful."
"That's all part of my diabolical plan. Get you so used to me and comfortable that you can't bear to imagine living without me again."
"Truly diabolical indeed."
The rest of the evening passed in relative comfort. During dinner and after, they kept topics of conversations to neutral, safe subjects. There would be time for the more difficult, more emotional discussions that needed to happen later in their thirty days. Too much too soon wasn't a great idea. He didn't bring up joining her in bed all night, but part of her hoped he would.